If you’ve read any of my recent posts, you know that I’ve spent the last four days roasting my ass off in Vegas. This trip was pretty chill, compared to previous trips, but still a lot of fun.
We arrived Wednesday afternoon, checked in, and wandered around the hotel for a while. We stopped at the California Pizza Kitchen to tide us over till dinner, which was mediocre but okay until I found several largish pieces of tinfoil in my food. Found by biting down on them, that is. An experience I’m going to be fine not repeating.
After that we went back and got ready for dinner at Gordon Ramsay Steak restaurant in the Paris. During prep time, I went ahead and burned myself on the jaw with my STUPID CURLING IRON AGAIN. You may recall my previous skirmish that left my upper arm burned as well. In this case, it looks much less like a badge of honor as it does a severe case of domestic violence:
Regardless of injuries sustained during the getting-ready process, I arrived at the Paris relatively unscathed:
Until I had to rush to the bathroom due to an emergency of the immediately feminine nature, whereupon I discovered that the back zipper of my beautiful dress had become separated while still zipped…therefore requiring fifteen extremely frustrating minutes naked in the bathroom cubicle swearing at my zipper while I attempt to work it back down far enough to successfully rezip.
Where’s a safety pin when you need one?? GAH!
All these pre-dinner escapades notwithstanding, the food was great, though a bit on the expensive side. I thought the restaurant had great ambiance but was slightly pretentious. My favorite-though-slightly-gross part was when the server came by with an enormous trolley with five tiers of raw steaks on it. Presumably because I would be overwhelmed by all the raw meat on display?
My drink was awesome (strawberry martini!) and I had the Beef Wellington, which was delicious. My martini came in the tallest martini glass I’ve ever seen…I’m sure you can imagine my terror throughout the meal that I would tip it over and break it.
After that we hung out at the Mirage till we tuckered out. Losing a bunch of money, of course.
The next day, Thursday, we went to the Paris again…
but this time in order to experience another Vegas first, taking the elevator ride up to the top of the Eiffel Tower (Vegas style). The guide explained that the tower was originally supposed to be the same exact size as the original, but because of the nearby airport they had to just make it half as big.
Thursday night we went to Fremont Street, and caught a little bit of the light show and lost a bunch of money on the slot machines. Damn you Vegas!!
Friday afternoon we spent at the pool (bliss!) where I have actual photographic evidence that I did indeed wear my pretty swimsuit. Aaaannnndddd…I didn’t hate it. Score one for my swimsuit buying skills!
I’m not yet ready to actually POST said full-body evidence on here, so you’ll just have to take this as proof.
Friday evening we spent at the Rhumbar followed by dinner at the Nine Fine Irishmen at the New York New York. This choice came about because of the devastating discovery that my beloved Sporting House sports bar has closed!! They had the best prime rib and fried cheese curds EVER. Total sadface.
I thought it was pretty good, with great ambiance and pretty good live music! We ate on the patio where we could watch people walking by and overhear the live singer. Totally awesome.
I had the chicken pot pie, which due to the addition of some tomato paste in the sauce, was an unusual pink color, but was still plenty yummy.
In perhaps the most exciting event of the trip, Band Geek finally won the bonus on the Van Helsing slot machine. It was truly a triumph of man over game, one three years in the making. Cheers to victory! In this case, “victory” is worth about $8 USD.
I spent the last night in the hotel pretty much unable to sleep and woke up Friday morning more tired than when I went to bed.
Another successful Vegas trip! Woot!